


White Noise

by Grimmseye



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Barry is a Villain in this one, F/M, He DOES wear bluejeans don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimmseye/pseuds/Grimmseye
Summary: The mask looks like its made of crystal, pale quartz carved into a skull, the eyes obscured. He wears a suit of all things — all the villainslovetheir suits these days. Seen one, seen a hundred, but at least he’s got some character to it: the material is a deep red.“Oh shit,” Lup gasps. “I should have kicked your ass back then.”





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU of an AU. I'm currently apart of a roleplay with [TaraHarkon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon) in which Lup and Barry are a pair of vigilantes. I ended up getting the inspiration for this particular offshoot and she let me run loose. While all the content here is written by me, the source material that inspired this comes from collaborating with Tara.

The first time they see him, they’re in their civvies.

Which is frustrating as all fuck cause when you see a guy in a skull mask absolutely _booking_ it down the road, your first thought is either frat party or villain, and in both cases you wanna tackle the dude to the ground and figure out where he came from. _That’s_ where the party's at.

What they do is this: Lup suddenly bumps into a guy and spills her coffee over the pavement, Taako stoops down to stick his fingers in said puddle. In a blink, it's frozen over, and he's grabbing the cup with the other hand as though he were simply picking up the litter. "Oh, fuck," Lup gasps, mock disappointment as both of them step back and watch the magic happen: skull guy shoves some dragonborn out of the way, his foot hits the ice, and, _whoop,_ down he goes.

A bit too hard, actually, Lup’s eyes going wide when she hears the definitive _crack_ of the guy’s _real_ skull hitting concrete.

“Oh, fuck,” she repeats, this time a whisper. Taako’s jaw is slack.

They might have to mark _that one_ off their civilian maneuvers, which is a testament to just how badly they might have fucked up. Last time they had to do that was after Burning Ring Of Fire, so, it’s been a hot minute.

Heroes are arriving on the scene. A villain after all, then, wonder if they can file for partial credit bringing this guy in.  _Assuming he's alive._ She only vaguely recognizes the people arriving, those stern no-nonsense suckups that hang around the Bureau. Lup drops her head, tucking her hair forward to cover her eyes and praying they hadn’t inadvertently just killed a man, villain or no.

Someone must be listening, because her wish is granted with a vengeance. Skull-mask gasps, body surging for a moment. He’s rolling over and up on his feet before either of them can do a thing about it, and sprinting deeper into the city streets. The suits behind him curse and redouble their efforts, storming past the twins. By their panting, they’ve been chasing him for a good while. More slippery than he looked, then.

The commotion passes. A few people have their phones out to record the fiasco, but most go about their day. Neverwinter has seen its fair share of villain activity.

“So I’m thinking we might wanna be more careful with that one, now,” Lup drawls, giving a regretful look to her coffee cup before tossing it into a wastebin. Four bucks a pop at Chesney’s ain’t cheap enough to be tossing it all over the ground. “Maybe, like, one of us catches the guy like a good samaritan, or…?”

_“Yeah,_ no shit.” Taako shakes his head, still a little wide-eyed. “Guy must have a fucking, thick-ass skull. Or maybe that’s just his power cause, uh, he should have at _least_ been concussed with a fall like that.” He smacks his palm against his temple, spinning one finger with a little _coo-coo_ whistle.

She snorts on a laugh. Her head turns, glancing back down the way he’d come with a considering quirk of the lips. “Wonder if we shoulda stopped him? Like, what if he grabs a hostage?”

“Then it’s not our problem,” Taako scoffs. She knows he doesn’t mean it. “And, besides, they have to have at _least_ hit him with a douser. It’s _fine,_ let someone else save the day for a change.”

That’s never been how they do things. It never will be. But really — a skull mask out in the middle of the day, bolting down the main boulevard. Newbie villain, she’s sure. This is the last she’ll ever hear of him.

  
  
  


The second time they see him, they there’s blood on his hands.

Every hero in a certain radius gets the distress signal, it just happens to be her and Taako who are closest. They take a glimpse at the location, at where they are, and Lup calls it in. “Phoenix and Polymorph responding,” she says.

_“Understood. We have the Regulators on standby, you two give us a shout if you need it,”_ comes Brad’s voice, and the two of them take off at a run.

Villain activity — it isn’t _always_ as flashy as comics would imply. Neverwinter isn’t constantly under siege, armies of possessed thralls aren’t marching through the streets. They’re just criminals with an extra punch, who need law enforcement of a similar calibre. And sometimes, _yeah,_ some freak goes around raining hellfire all over the place on a fucked up power trip, but really? It’s all pretty low-key. If they let fights get into the public eye every day, they’d be pretty shit at their jobs.

And Phoenix and Polymorph? Are the _best_ heroes out there. Read it and fucking weep, _Greg Grimaldis._

Admittedly even she is a bit thrown off to come upon a standard office complex. Banks, street fights, _again,_ it’s all just regular criminal crime in the end. So an office belonging to such-and-such pharmaceutical company, _that’s_ a little bit strange.

“Top floor, conference room,” Lup says. She and her brother wear similar outfits, red to his blue, masks over the eyes, their Bureau bracers latched onto opposite arms.

“And who’s getting thrashed up there?” Taako asks. He taps the soles of his boots and then hers, and then her hands, transmuting an adhesive over each surface he touches.

“No villain named yet,” Lup tells him, “but Bane’s the one who sent the signal.”

“We've got no clue what we're running into, then? Fucking fantastic,” Taako sighs.

They climb. Taako's adhesive lets them scale right up the side of the building, the sunset reflecting golden off tinted windows. The twin heroes are just flecks of dark against its brilliance as they bound up the flat of a skyscraper, the city’s noise quieting around them.

And then there’s a shatter from above.

Taako seizes her hand. The glass dissolves underneath them, sand pouring out and spilling both of them through and out onto the ground. They tumble into a floor of cubicles, now dirtied by the grains scattering across the room. Through the open window, she sees flecks of glass spin down, scattering flashes of the sunset right beside the silhouette of a body and the blood it spills.

They don’t hear it hit the ground.

_“Fuck,”_ Lup breathes. “Okay. Stairs?”

“Stairs.”

They run, thudding up the steps, just a few flights until they get to a door. Taako motions for her to pause, the two of them hovering with their ears against the wood. There’s a voice inside. Then a shout, a crash.

Lup counts down: _three, two, one,_ and they slam the door open, Taako falling back to let her take the lead, fire wreathing her hands in a furious blaze as she barks, “Pro heroes, stand down!”

Skull-mask whips around to face her.

The room is surprisingly tidy. A few chairs strewn about, yes, a broken window, but otherwise in order.  There are a few limp forms on the ground that she hopes are only unconscious or stunned. And Bane — _Captain Bane,_ technically — is pinned on the table. Blood pools over the edge and drips to the floor, his chest heaving with each shallow breath, held down by the man she'd seen so many days before.

The mask looks like it's made of crystal, pale quartz carved into a skull, the eyes obscured. He wears a suit of all things — all the villains _love_ their suits these days. Seen one, seen a hundred, but at least he’s got some character to it: the material is a deep red. The hand pinning Bane down is encased in a set of talons, black metal that glints a threat.

“Oh shit,” Lup gasps. “I should have kicked your ass back then.” Guilt crawls up in her throat; she’d turned her head away, and now at least one person was dead.

Skull-mask tips his head, quiet. _“Phoenix,”_ he says, and though his voice is soft — it’s almost a whisper, really, the way it rasps — something is projecting his words. _“Which means…”_ And the mask turns, one way, then another. He’s looking for her brother. Motherfucker knows their tricks.

“Hands up,” she snaps, “step away from Bane.”

He ignores her. The mask tips _up,_ right where a long-limbed spider is hanging above his head. Then Taako turns back into an elf and _drops._

Skull throws himself out of the way, hitting the ground in a skid as Taako lands with a, _“Damn it!_ You couldn’t have held still for one more second?” And then he’s yelping and ducking as a chair sails over his head, hitting the tile with a heavy crash.

Lup darts forward, a stream of fire jetting from the floor at her feet and right for the villain. It swells, roaring in his face as he falls back with his head tipped away from it, one arm up. In the firelight, the blue surface of his mask seems to glow, bright gemstone and shadows alike.

When the flames drop, she’s coming through it swinging a kick at his head. _Crack_ to the side, he staggers and she comes up with a kick to his gut, comes off solid. Armor under that fancy wear, he catches her leg by the calf — _“Fuck!” —_ and digs those talons in, her suit protesting but the pressure sharp and painful for the split second before he’s sending her reeling.

She crashes against the wall, shoulder bursting with the pain of the impact. Teeth bared in a snarl, her head snaps up, a fresh bout of fire igniting. Taako is already on him, staff in hand to melt the metal into a glaive. It tears through the material at his belly, glances harmlessly away. It’s a kinetic mesh underneath, she can see that much now, but when Taako gets the blade dragged over his arm, the tip comes away red.  
  
Not a complete suit, then. Lup gives a whistle before she darts forward. Skull-mask is still catching himself, hand clutching the arm where he’d been cut. Taako drops down, rolling onto his back, feet hoisted up so when Lup jumps, the soles of her boots match with his. He pushes, she leaps, throws an arc of fire down as she clears Skull-mask’s head and flips to land in a crouch behind him.

There’s a shout, either pain or shock. She twists to find Taako’s leveled the glaive at Skull’s throat, his hands poised at his sides, head tipped up and away from that sharp edge. The room is still.

Lup breathes a sigh. She fishes the cuffs from her belt, jangling them behind him. “Alright, Skeletor, hold still, you’re gonna feel a _slight_ pinch.”

The head cocks. And then he slumps. _“Right,”_ he sighs, a hiss of voice. _“Like pulling teeth, huh?”_

“Sure is, my guy,” Lup smirks, and steps forward. She reaches for one hand, and really it’s _completely_ unsurprising when he twists and grabs her back. He falls away from Taako’s glaive, Lup igniting her hand in his grip, that’s bare _fucking_ skin under that metal it’s gonna _hurt._

But he doesn’t let go. There’s a broken, agonized sound behind that mask, but he doesn’t let _go._ Amid the fire, there’s an extra flash of _red,_ and then the sensation of something being dragged from her, like it's being pulled from the veins beneath her skin. And she gasps, that same  _something_ twisting and rebelling and fighting against that pull, pressure pounding at her temples, pulse leaping in her throat.

“Hands off the sister!” Taako snarls. The hand releases her, and Lup staggers, her head swimming and nausea roiling in her gut. There’s another bright flash, red thrown across the room, Taako cries out. When she’s able to lift her head, it’s in time to see Skull-mask vaulting clear out of the same window he’d tossed a body through.

Taako’s down beside her in an instant, hand at her back, a worried breath of her name, too quiet to be heard by anyone else. “You — what’s wrong, what the fuck was that?”

Lup’s breath comes in heavy pants, a hand braced to her racing heart. “I’m fine,” she gasps. “I think I just — need a moment. Go — go help the others.”

He doesn’t though, he stays right beside her until the dizziness ebbs, at least enough for her to get on her own two feet. They call in for paramedics, and one by one, they check each body.

Bane is the only one left alive.

  
  


The Director calls them in early the next morning. No lasting injuries — not for _them,_ at least. Bane’s under Peacekeeper’s care until further notice, with a list of injuries that made Lup’s stomach twist. And to think she’d dropped her guard around this guy. Twice now, he'd fallen out between their fingers.

“I’m assigning you two to a new case,” The Director announces. “Bane had been working on it for quite some time now, but… well, unfortunately he’ll be off duty for a while.”

“Before you continue,” Taako says, holding up a finger. “What’s the insurance policy on this one? Cause uh, the last guy on this job got beat to _shit,_  and his cronies..." Taako dragged a finger across the neck with a slicing sound."Are we entitled to financial compensation?”

“Depends on the circumstances.”

“Emotional damages?”

“No.”

“Grievous injury?”

“No.”

“Death?”

“That’s the one.”

There’s a pause. Then Taako shrugs. “Yeah, sounds about right. Lay it on us.”

Lup huffs a quiet laugh, quick to refocus as the Director turns her computer screen around. She’s not particularly surprised to find Skull-mask gazing back at them.

“Captain Bane was investigating a villain who’s been causing us grief for quite a bit of grief.” The Director leans back in her chair, tucking white hair back behind her ear. The woman is inscrutable at nearly all times, the mask over her eyes covering up the one thing that might betray her. Today, though, she just looks tired. “I knew better, but I had to hope that when he went quiet, it would be for good. Unfortunately, that’s not quite the case.”

She scrolls down, Lup raising an eyebrow at just how _empty_ the file is. No civilian name, no suspected alliances, no known motives. “As you can see, our efforts have been mostly in vain. I’m hoping that your more… unusual methods will change that." There's the barest hint of a smile. "You will still be called upon to react to active threats, but from here out, your focus is to be on investigating and apprehending the villain Animus.”

**Author's Note:**

> Final note! I would like to say that in regards to how I'm writing Barry, I'm doing my best to work with how I believe he would act in canon, even at his most morally ambiguous. Shock factor drama is _not_ my brand. 
> 
> That being said, let me know what you think! I'm pretty excited for this one. <3


End file.
